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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29987136">Cousland Collection</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fondofthehowes/pseuds/fondofthehowes'>fondofthehowes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Catch all, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, I'm just tired of making individual fics, OC Collection, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:07:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,466</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29987136</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fondofthehowes/pseuds/fondofthehowes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of Ficlets and One shots involving one or both of my Couslands. Chapters will have the pairing as the title and additional tags in the chapter summary.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alistair/Cousland (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Anders &amp; Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Bryce Cousland &amp; Female Cousland, Female Cousland &amp; Anders &amp; Nathaniel Howe, Female Cousland &amp; Fergus Cousland, Female Cousland &amp; Male Cousland (Dragon Age), Female Cousland &amp; Nathaniel Howe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. (Detour) Female Cousland & Anders & Nathaniel Howe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Basic Info: </p><p>Magnolia Eleanor Cousland (22 at time of the blight) - Hero of Ferelden, Queen of Ferelden, twin to Samuel. Married to Alistair post DAO. </p><p>Samuel Alexander Cousland (22 at time of the blight) - Warden, Arl of Highever, twin to Magnolia. Married to Zevran 9:35 Dragon.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"You should ask her for me." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why would I do that?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because I need it and she won't tell me yes." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have you stopped to consider why she is telling you no? Perhaps it is for a reason." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>The reason is she hates me</span>
  </em>
  <span>." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can't possibly believe that is true given the amount of time you spend with one another." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wh—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Anders, stop harassing Nathaniel, the answer is still no," Magnolia said, gaze still forward as she rolled her eyes. "I'm still not entirely sure why you want to detour anyway. Aren't you usually the one that wants to get back to the keep as soon as possible?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anders trotted up next to her, arms tucked across his chest. Shoulder nudging hers, he gave a gentle whine trying to get her attention. Her gaze stayed ahead. He tried again, bumping her a little harder, earning eyes that flickered over to him. Sharp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Funny thing, the mage was, now that she let him close to her. A friend in many rights, a confidante and also an annoyance. When he wanted something and his amber eyes turned shiny and his teeth showed with a grin trying to lure her into agreeing. It wasn't as if she <em>always</em> told him no. Just that she had learned it was easier not to allow it too often. The mage was creative in a lot of ways that the others weren't—that wasn't always good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I just want to go to this river that's close by. It's very pretty, or it was last I saw it on an escape. The weather is perfect for a swim, I don't know why we can't," Anders argued, scratching at his head, looking off into the woods. Leaning on her a little harder, he ducked his head down rubbing his scruff against her face. "Come on, Mags. A little fun." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magnolia sighed, giggling a little at the tickle of his hair on her face before swatting him off. With a single beckoning hand, she ushered Nathaniel over, turning her attention to her left to look at him. They stared for a moment, conversing quietly as Anders continued to lean, walking haphazardly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I hate when you two do this. Speak out loud like normal people so I know what's going on. I can't </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> read minds, you know," Anders huffed, earning narrowed eyes from Nathaniel. "Well, I can't."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reaching up, Magnolia scratched Anders' chin, nodding at Nathaniel before returning her gaze ahead. At the next split, they took the one away from the Keep and Anders hummed. Kissing her head, he lept ahead a step, grinning. His gold was something warmer than the sun, she knew. It was nice to say yes every once in a while. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There is this little stairstep of rapids that you can sit in like a chair with the water running on you. It's so nice," Anders explained, leading the way with his arms now tucked happily behind his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nathaniel again looked at Magnolia, question silent. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why do you indulge him like you do</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snorted a laugh under her breath, shaking her head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It's fun, sometimes</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gaze set back ahead, Nathaniel tucked his arms across his chest, walking silently. They mirrored one another in a comfortable way now. No anger held residual between them. Just trust that continued to form and friendship that solidified daily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Approaching the river, tucked beneath a thick canopy of trees, the rapids sat. Their song was one that she heard different versions of each time they visited one to clean up. Bubbling and low, constant with its changing pace, it was easy to slip away into the sound. The water ran at a comfortable pace, keeping the water clear and circulating, but nothing quick enough to pose danger. Kicking his boots off, Anders chuckled, turning back to the two of them. His smile made Magnolia smile and with a relenting sigh, she too started to get undressed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oooh</span>
  </em>
  <span>," Anders purred, grinning, "now you see why I suggested it. My master plan to get our Commander into her small clothes." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Anders," Magnolia said firmly, hands still working on her pants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm only teasing. You are a beautiful woman though, I'm not going to pretend you aren't just because you're happily married and incapable of being affected by the outside world," Anders sighed, dropping his last piece. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where do you think this flattery gets you?" Nathaniel asked, carefully removing and folding his own clothes. Looking at Magnolia, she met his gaze in question. "But he isn't wrong." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I hate you both," She huffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping into the stream, Anders chuckled at the cold water, walking carefully against the stone bed. It was slick, breeding caution she rarely saw from the mage for himself, but he soon found a small dip to settle himself against a shelf. Water poured down against his shoulders and he laughed freely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It made Magnolia twitch. Ache a bit with watching the mage who had been denied so much most of his life enjoy something. A simple happiness in an otherwise cruel world, but at least he had a semblance of freedom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mags!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinked, finding attention back to Anders, weak smile on her face. He was good at that—drawing her back from her thoughts when she started circling with them like a quick current. Properly undressed, she stepped into the river, walking until she found her own space to rest a few feet away from Anders. Nathaniel followed, keeping a touch more distance on Anders' other side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eyes closed, the three sat, soaking in a nice silence of wind blowing through the trees and water running against them. It made things slow a bit. Time marched on but it did so quietly, no longer loud within her ears. Anders' hand touched her cheek, drawing a cold chill to her and she opened her eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you," He said quietly, still smiling. "I wanted to see this again, but I really thought you could use it. If I told you that, then you wouldn't do it. You don't do things for yourself. Why?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her brows flinched at the truth. It wasn't that she didn't do things for herself, rather that she didn't really </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to do things for herself. Being Commander and Queen was already a lot on her plate. To take time for herself was time away from things she needed to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sharp panic that instilled in her for being in a river rather than heading back to the keep proved Anders' point all at once. Sighing, she rubbed her eyes. Why was the mage so damn insightful?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know," She answered quietly, "I feel like I can't."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, that's no good," Nathaniel sighed, eyes still closed. "Cousland, you have to do things for yourself unless you like going insane." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Never thought I would get the Howe to agree with me. That just proves my point," Anders affirmed, raising his hand out of the water, pointing it at Nathaniel. "Thank you." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do not thank me. It's merely the truth. Now," Nathaniel said, opening his eyes to look at her. Studying for a moment, he narrowed his gaze sharper. "What do you like to do? I've become aware just now that I have no earthly idea what you enjoy that doesn't involve besting me with a sword." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anders chuckled and Nathaniel splashed him with a quick flick of water. Taking a moment, Magnolia pursed her lips. What did she enjoy doing? Most of what she ever did for herself was for stress relief alone. She never really proactively did anything for herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I like reading. Quiet. I don't really do much for 'fun', to be quite honest. Not unless Samuel is around," Magnolia offered. "Doing things for myself wasn't really the way I was raised." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nathaniel nodded in understanding. "I suppose the things you do in your free time are still skills you were taught. I find myself doing the same. Only difference is now you can actually enjoy them if you wish." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magnolia's brows furrowed. Things she was taught to do, turned into something for pleasure. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hmm.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"Piano maybe? Sewing or cross stitch would be nice. I like having something to do with my hands," Magnolia explained, hand already poised to splash Anders if he laughed. When he didn't, she relaxed. "Perhaps those." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I didn't know you could cross stitch," Anders said quietly, grinning. "I faintly remember my mother doing it. She actually embroidered a pillow for me. Only thing the circle let me keep." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magnolia's mouth twitched at that, drawing tears to the corners of her eyes. It hit quickly, sharp pain in her chest. Anger for him and the fear he felt. The things he had to leave behind. It ached.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mags... I know that look," Anders chided, gaze easing. "It's alright." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, it isn't," She replied quietly, taking a sharp breath in through her nose. "It's not alright until I know your phylactery is destroyed. Not until you can have things again and feel safe about it." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shifting from where he sat, Anders moved closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. He pulled her into his lap halfway, letting her rest on his knee as his arm hooked around her waist. Head on her shoulder, he hummed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're a wonderful friend," Anders murmured, voice tinged with something else, "Wonderfully terrifying in all the best ways. If I haven't told you lately, I'm glad the Maker put you in my corner." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magnolia was quiet a moment, jaw locked to regulate her breathing. She didn't deal with compliments well. Flattery and kindness fell on her shoulders crooked. Still, she could tell he was being genuine and it made her lower her head a touch. The last year of her life was a terrible one, but it gave her wonderful people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you," She said quietly, "I appreciate that. You're both horrible and I don't know why I kept you at times," A weak laugh left her, but she settled harder into Anders' hold, "but I'm glad I did. Odd birds you are." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think I'm a perfectly </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal</span>
  </em>
  <span> bird, thank you," Anders sighed, pressing her forehead into her shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You most certainly aren't," She huffed, looking to Nathaniel who nodded in agreement. "I wouldn't want you any other way." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Bold words, Queenmander," Anders hummed. Fingers dancing across her stomach, she kicked out, laughter leaving her sharply. "No other way, hm?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Breath caught in her throat, she splashed, trying to pull from Anders' touch. Nathaniel moved out of their range with a chuckle, pulling himself back up onto the bank, shaking himself out. A sharp squeal left Magnolia and he turned around with a smile. It was good to see her warm and unrestrained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps, Nathaniel would request things for Anders more often.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. (Kitchen Kept) Female Cousland & Anders</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Magnolia has breakfast with Anders in the keep kitchen and imparts a few truths.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Magnolia hesitated outside of the kitchen, leaned against the door frame, half in, half out. It was storming outside, sheets smacking the walls of the keep so loudly that it resonated inside the walls. She couldn't just grab her things and flit outside to eat like usual. Gritting her teeth, her eyes flitted into the dim room. The others hadn't woken up yet, and likely wouldn't, for a while longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're waiting on me? How sweet of you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her gaze turned to Anders, hair still half wet and down as it hung above his shoulders. At the comment, she rolled her eyes pushing back up to stand, hands fixing her shirt gently. A beat of delayed realization passed through her that she wasn't alone and she grinned, walking into the kitchen with a nod of her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, of course. Don't you know that my entire schedule revolves around you?" She crooned with a slight smirk, hands already pulling things from the cabinet. "Coffee?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anders hummed a yet of confirmation, hopping up to sit on the table that sat in the middle of the room. His legs swung, watching her quietly for a moment as she worked. Magnolia had a tendency to zone into things she was doing with an alarming focus. Made her an easy target at times in the field which left Anders' eyes to always stay on her. Just because she was fast didn't mean she was immune.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mags," Anders called and got a hum in response, "why were you waiting at the door?" Brow flinching, the pieces put together more. He had never seen her in here alone. "Why don't you come in here alone?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning to look at him for a glance before returning attention to the kettle, she tsked. "I don't know what you're talking about."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You never sit in here and snack like the rest of us. You always just get things and go," Anders said, swinging his leg up further to gently tap her with his foot. When she was quiet, turning around to face him with hands on the counter as it filtered, he frowned slightly at her. "You don't have to talk about it right now, but I would like to know."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes went to the floor for a minute, her own leg swinging out. A keep wall made in a kitchen. Taking in a deeper breath, she shook her head. "I just don't like to be in the kitchen alone. It doesn't feel safe. That's all."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anders' brows flinched and he hopped down. Hand beneath her chin, he pulled her gaze up to him, searching. Eyes that were near emerald still held blue. Her secrets felt like that, the blue buried by the overwhelming green. Pieces of herself from before the keep. Before the blight. He was one of the view that got close enough to ever note it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then you don't have to be. I'll always sit with you in here if you like. You're safe with me," Anders said, grinning again, hoping she would follow. "Where better for a sweet healer to be than among the sugar and honey?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her nose wrinkled with an unreleased laugh, but her eyes fell shut, lulling when they reopened. Her shoulders loosened as the last drops of coffee fell into the glass behind her. Shifting her face, she directed his hand from beneath her chin to her lips, kissing it once before dropping it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I am very safe with you, yes," Magnolia admitted quietly, turning back to preparing their cups, "I am a great many things with you Anders. You are many things alone, but I'm glad you share them with me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Softening with a snort, he wrapped his hands around her from behind, tucking his face into her neck. "You're too kind to a little apostate like me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm kind to my best friend, Anders. I don't care what you're capable of. I already told you that once," Magnolia argued, pressing a sigh from her nose, but relented to the affection. "You are who I see you as."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Which is your best friend?" Anders asked, warmed as if he were submerged in the kettle himself. "Then I must say I'm pleased to mirror you for once. You're mine."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hum left her as she tucked further into him before turning around, wrapping her arms around his neck. Kissing the side of his head, she pulled back and Anders swore her eyes felt a little more blue.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. (Nothing) Female Cousland</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Character Death, Grieving, Blood/Gore, Revenge</p><p>Magnolia kills Rendon and finds that revenge isn't as straightforward as she thought.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The entire time she was in the room, from the moment she stepped in, her vision was set. Hearing set. Heart set. All focused on the man standing before her, grin cocky and wide as he detailed yet again why she wanted to kill him so badly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The others were behind her but she didn’t take notice. There was only the heavy drum of her heart in her ears. The way her mother pleaded her name with the last breath she heard from her. The way her father clutched at his side, blood pooling on the ground as she couldn’t manage tears to do the same in her eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rendon fell to the floor with a misstep—a mistake that would cost him his life. She didn’t have to be skilled to kill him.  She didn’t have to be strong. Rendon was a coward that sent others to do his dirty work, but at least Magnolia would do hers personally. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stabbing a dagger through his leg, his scream didn’t register to her. There was only a darkness around the edges of her vision. Fire that licked her legs like it did then. He spoke to her, strangled and angry, but it didn’t decipher. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pulling her father’s sword from her back, she positioned it over his chest without hesitation. It stayed tucked away this whole time. Unused. Protected. Just like she was for so long. When they entered Denerim she carried it with her everywhere—just for this. Bringing it down into him, it resisted her at first, unlike her daggers did. It was larger. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Right. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Pulling back, she drove it into him again.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Last of nothing.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Playing the man.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bryce Cousland’s little spitfire.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rotting on a scrap heap. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he stopped jerking beneath her, she stopped, sword still pushed into him. Blood pooled against the floor, coloring the stone. It brought her back, eyes fluttering, and she could hear something. Rendon? No. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Magnolia</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sick rose in her as she stared down at Rendon’s lifeless body. She was supposed to feel peace. Retribution. Revenge served. She felt nothing. Nothing but a vast emptiness in her chest. In her heart. In her family. Her jaw started to shake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crumbling in on herself, she started to cry, mouth open with no sound with eyes pinched shut. No breath. No sound. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Her body shook as she tried to take in a breath, sobbing it back out a moment later. It sank in, second by second. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were gone. They were gone. They were gone and she had </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sucking in another breath, her breathing picked up, making her head spin. She needed something. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anything. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Not nothing. Hands pulled on her arms, lifting her off his body and she let them. Whoever it was could kill her and she wouldn’t care. What was the point anymore? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tucked into a chest, Alistair’s chest, she curled up tighter. It was so dark yet overwhelming, the pain in her vision. The fear turned to anger that still had no release. Her lungs felt raw, ragged from breathing in blood and sweat and the cold moisture of the dungeon. Hiccuping out another sob, her voice came back, a low whine from her throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” She cried, shaking her head, breathing picking up again, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>No, that can’t be it. That can’t be it. That can’t be it.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alistair held her tighter, his own chest heavy. He wanted the very same for Loghain—but if it was nothing what was the point? Her vision faded to a different darkness until he sat her up. Hands coaxed her to breathe and she did so, slowly. She had to live. She had to live with the nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pulling her up to her feet, Magnolia was unaware of how much time had passed. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? She just felt empty and cold, eyes gone and hands shaking. The soft sound of the sword being resheathed pulled her back, eyes blinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alistair looked at her, worry in his features. Condolences. Love. All of it held in a warm face she loved so much. It barely touched her then. Sniffling, she nodded to herself, walking back out to the hall. Pushing the feeling into a box, she tucked it back in the corner of her mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They still had things to do, regardless of her failure to fix things. Maybe she could get one of those right.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. (Sharp) Female Cousland & Bryce Cousland</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sparring, Anger management</p><p>Bryce spars with Magnolia, teaching her far more than how to fight.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The side of Bryce’s blade smacked against Magnolia’s face playfully and she huffed, leaning away. They had been going for nearly an hour and she had yet to disarm her father once. He asked her to practice on a whim and she wasn’t about to turn it down. Only other thing she was doing was listening to her mother go on about the salon in a few weeks and how she ‘looked so beautiful when she wore blue’. </p><p>Closing her eyes, she tried to recenter as she stepped back into place. Sighing out of her nose, she opened them to find her father’s sword sheathed again. </p><p>“Hey! We aren’t done!” Magnolia argued, brows flinching, then recoiling from her volume. “I mean, I haven’t disarmed you yet. We aren’t done, are we?”</p><p>Bryce tweaked a smile, pulling his sword back out. It gleamed, carved with the laurels of their crest. It would likely be passed to Fergus or Samuel, seeing as they actually used a sword, but she could too. She could. </p><p>Flipping her own short sword in her hand, she shifted her weight. “I can.”</p><p>“I didn’t say you couldn’t, Pup,” Bryce reasoned, positioning his own foot. “You looked tired. Fighting tired isn’t smart.”</p><p>“Won’t I have to at some point?” Magnolia argued, lunging forward. </p><p>“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Bryce conceded, parrying. “I hope you don’t.”</p><p>“Because I shouldn’t even be in the field at all, right?” Magnolia muttered, sliding her blade against his, running it forward. </p><p>Her irritation was building again. There was something about the way her brothers left the grounds more often than she did. Something about how they got fitted for armor without question but she had to beg. It made her angry. Furious. </p><p>Bryce took note of her movements, guiding against her. Moving, moving always, light on his feet. She arrived for the same, to move without settling. Her life was anything but, so finding it at all felt good. </p><p>“You’re angry,” Bryce stated, clashing his sword against hers.</p><p>“No,” Magnolia lied, lunging forward again. The metal rang in her ears and she gritted her teeth. “Yes, I am.” </p><p>“Tell me why,” Bryce said, pushing her blade down for a moment before resuming. “Vocalize, Magnolia.”</p><p>Nausea churned in her stomach and she clenched her jaw. She didn’t want to. There was no part of her that wanted to vocalize this to her father. He didn’t need that from her. Not when it wasn’t something he could fix. Not really. Her eyes begged to flit off but she was forced to focus by metal again. </p><p>“Why am I different from them?” She demanded, stepping forward, striking faster. “I’m not. A child. I’m just not a man. Is that it?”</p><p>Bryce flinched in his gaze, almost easing back. He realized if he relented because she was upset, he was proving her point. So, he pushed forward again, making her work on keeping on her toes again. He shook his head at her, but he knew it was partially a lie. </p><p>“Pup—“</p><p>“No! I’m not a pup! I’m an adult! I can go to war! I can <em> do something </em>!” Magnolia yelled, more to herself than him, edges of her vision focusing forward, knocking the blade from Bryce’s hand. Breathing heavily, she took a beat, pacing away a few steps with a hum before yelling, sinking into the balls of her feet. “This is why I can’t, isn’t it? This?”</p><p>Hand on her back, she tried to focus on her father’s touch, quiet and assuring. Pieces of her hair fell free of her ponytail against her face and he reached, tucking them back against her ear. Taking in a slower breath, she lifted back to her feet, nodding. </p><p>“Okay?” Bryce asked, looking for her eyes. </p><p>“Okay,” Magnolia replied, nodding. </p><p>A small smile pressed on his lips as he cupped her face. Small pup she was in his eyes, always. She couldn’t help that. It’s simply who she was to him. But she was right, she was an adult. No longer were the days she danced on his shoes and giggled at him swinging her by her arms.</p><p>She was getting close to being gone in a different way. Married. A mother of her own right, hopefully. Releasing her, he walked back over to collect his sword, rubbing his neck. He was getting too old for this, but she wouldn’t do it with her brothers. Fergus was too soft on her and Samuel hated practicing with anyone. </p><p>“You really want to go out in the field?” He asked, looking back at her, genuinely curious. “Or do you just want the opportunity to be a choice at all?” </p><p>“I just want the choice,” She said quietly, arms tucking across her chest. “I don’t have much of one.”</p><p>“Choice is dangerous at times. It allows you to think you have freedom when really it can trap you worse than a defined path,” Bryce offered, “Your mother knows what it’s like out there. She didn’t want that for you.”</p><p>“So she just gets to decide my entire life because she had a bad time?” Magnolia argued, volume raising again. “I don’t <em> get </em> her! I’ve never understood her and I feel like I’m missing something or I’m crazy or—“</p><p>“You’re so alike you’re just slamming into glass, Pup,” Bryce offered. Eleanor was—a lot. He knew that. It’s why he chased her. Why he ran along her side. “Take a moment and see her side of the pane.”</p><p>“I don’t want to,” Magnolia bit, eyes dancing with a defiance. “I’ve tried to forever. It’s not going to get clearer. I’m just not what she wanted. I have to accept that.”</p><p>“Magnolia Eleanor,” Bryce clipped. “Enough.”</p><p>“Fine,” She replied, gaze flitting off. “I’m sorry.” </p><p>“That was not genuine. Not for a moment.”</p><p>Looking back at her father she softened a touch. She just wanted to do right by him. She didn’t care about what her mother wanted. It was known her whole life and not once had it hit her that she wanted it. Still, she would. She had to.</p><p>“I apologize for yelling about my mother. I am sure she has reasons for what she does regardless of my ability to understand them,” Magnolia offered along with her hand, gently in front of her. “I’m sorry I raised my voice to you.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Bryce replied, easing. Walking towards her again, he placed a hand on her lower back. “Let’s go play, hm? Something a little less sharp.”</p><p>Magnolia snorted, following his path back into the house. “If it isn’t in tune still, it’ll still be sharp.”</p><p>“Just like you, how apt,” Bryce teased, kissing her head. “Never dull, Magnolia. Make the world regret being on the other side of anything with you.”</p><p>“You think so?” She asked, grin small. “Words and otherwise?”</p><p>“Of course,” Bryce offered and opened the door.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. (Ready?) Bryce Cousland & Female Cousland</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Childhood, Fluff, Comfort</p><p>Magnolia deals with being separated from Samuel and Bryce helps her realize she's her own person.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He wasn't there and so she wasn’t either. Tucked into herself, knees drawn, head atop them like a small crown. Made of flowers like the ones being soaked by late summer rain. Warmth comes with this kind of weather in a way that no other does. Hazy even when you're beneath cover, the water finds your skin and collects. It drips against skin and makes you a cloud of your own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt like one. Very high up, hanging in the in between. Here and there. She's here. He's there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Back by week's end, they tell her, assure her, urge her. She still can't figure out why she couldn't just go along. How was she supposed to function when half of her was elsewhere? Why remove that when you didn't have to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stone steps beneath her are shaded differently from water painting in odd lines from feet that come and go. Not her own. That would mean she moved. They made her leave her room because she wouldn't. Told her to sit outside so she would have fresh air. Lot of good that is, when she doesn't feel like breathing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not with one set of lungs. Not like this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Usually, they would be out there in it. Dancing, soaking their clothes to their skin until Samuel said it was enough. That he was more rain than person. Magnolia liked being more rain than a person. Lightning would strike and thunder would follow and they would count. Pace it. Predict. Next crack they counted. </span>
  <em>
    <span>1, 2, 3, 4, 5</span>
  </em>
  <span>--then screamed with the clap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Loud with no boundaries as the world did the same as them. It pulled laughter from their chests. Freedom. They would get called in and would ask for a little bit longer. One more clap. It was coming soon, they knew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thunder clapped and she didn't scream. She didn't predict. He wasn't there to do so. What happened when he wasn't? This? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tucking her head into her knees, she held herself together best she could in only parts. By week's end. Just breathe. Rain brings Samuel. Clover and earth with fresh rain pulling it to her nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand rested on her back, wide, reaching. A kiss on her crown. Knees that drew next to hers. Touching. Quiet. Too quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't you want to go out in it?" Bryce asked, tucking her hair back, trying to ground her. "You love going in the rain." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not without him," Magnolia replied. Muttered. "I hate it without him." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bryce was quiet a moment. He knew how the twins were. Twins. Attached. It's why Eleanor took Samuel with her in the first place. They needed to be apart. They had to learn how to be apart. It didn't mean it hurt less watching it happen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like leaving a child to cry in the night. Good for them, in the end. Painful now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You are still yourself without your brother, Magnolia," Bryce said quietly. "You know that." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She winced. Did she? It didn't feel like it at all. Stuck. Unmoving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Magnolia..." Bryce started again, scratching her back softly. "Who are you?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Me, I guess," Magnolia muttered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What does that mean? Tell me. Hold yourself up. What is there?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tried to picture it. Just her. It was hazy. Had no real form. Dresses. Braids. Pianos. Scraped knees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know," She admitted quietly. "I just am, ok?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No... not ok. Magnolia look at me, please?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned her head quietly, blinking at her father. Smile warm. Scruffy. Things she could feel and remember. Did she have texture?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You are many things. Touch one. Just one," He urged quietly, holding up a single finger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soft hands. Warm. Guiding. She flexed her own hands. What did they feel like to someone else? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can't," Magnolia sighed, swallowing. Why did she have to do this? “I just can’t.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can. Try." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magnolia frowned, looking back out to the courtyard. Her head looped around for a moment. Ran in small circles. "Small." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Small? Size wise? That is true, I suppose," Bryce chuckled.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head. "Different. Just small. In my hands and head. Is that good enough?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bryce watched her, tugging on her arm, making her stand. She argued with a small noise but followed as he pulled them into the rain. It hurt at first. Feeling it without him. It wasn't right. He wasn't here. Holding her there, soaking through, he stared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thunder clapped and he still watched. She counted. Her chest hurt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ready?" He asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thunder clapped and she screamed.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. (Just One Question) Alistair Theirin & Female Cousland</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>First night of camp after Ostagar, Alistair tries to get to know Magnolia a little more.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Awkward silence was held between the rustling of canvas and soft thudding of metal stakes into the ground. A fire crackled alongside it, growing slowly as it breathed to life. Its warmth didn’t quite touch Magnolia, but then again nothing did. The world was still diluted and cold with nothing to alleviate it permanently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not until she knew about her brothers. Only then could the tone shift in her mind. Bright back into things reclaimed or pitch into a darkness she was certain she would never return from. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small sound registered in her ear, a scuff of a boot no longer working to push but rather walking towards her. Looking to her right, she spotted Alistair moving in her direction. Timid in the way that he smiled at her. Cautious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to bite,” Magnolia said simply, stating the fact with a tone that betrayed the sentence itself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think you were, just maybe that you didn’t want to talk seeing as you keep to yourself,” Alistair replied, then blinked with wider eyes. “Not that it’s a bad thing! Just that I thought it might be nice to talk seeing as we haven’t really since Ostagar. It’s been all blood and battle and witches.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finishing off her tent, Magnolia stood back up, taking Alistair in fully. Odd, he was. He let her lead though she was barely a warden herself. Regardless of the training her father and mother gave her, this wasn’t the kind of leadership she was trained for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What would you want to talk about?” Magnolia asked plainly, mind praying that it was tactics. Anything else—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, for starters, who are you? Mags is pretty much all I have for you. Also that you came from Highever but—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to talk about that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You... you don’t want to talk about yourself? Even your name?” Alistair questioned, brows drawn in confusion. “Why? Are you some dangerous criminal? You could be. Daveth was. But—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a criminal. I just don’t owe you anything. Do I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was aware her cold demeanor wasn’t helping things. Layers of ice that she kept against her skin, keeping the world out with only a glimpse of what she actually was. It protected her and Alistair was trying to melt it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No... I suppose you don’t. You don’t really know anything about me, either,” Alistair relented, scratching the back of his neck before crossing his arms. “What if I tell you something about myself and then you do the same?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Magnolia answered without hesitation. “I don’t see how you knowing my name or my favorite food or what side I sleep on helps with—“ She flicked her hand out. “All this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t, but it helps things not be so awkward on the road if we know each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking up at him, searching hazel eyes that caught more than the light of the fire in them, Magnolia studied Alistair. He was younger than her, she thought, but only by a little. Hair always doing as it pleased, energy abound, appetite unceasing. It made her miss Samuel even more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sucking her cheek into her teeth, Magnolia considered it. The blight wasn’t going to be over any time soon, but that was its own obstacle. She could befriend Alistair. Spill into him and then he could die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, why waste the energy?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can ask me one question. One,” Magnolia stated, holding up a finger. “And I will ask you one. Deal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alistair’s mouth twitched with a smile at getting some footing and he nodded. One. Maker, she hoped he didn’t ask anything beyond a shallow preference. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, one question...” Alistair mused, hand curling into his chin. Fingers scratching the scruff there, he muttered unintelligibly as he thought. If the world wasn’t grey, Magnolia may have found it endearing. “Ah. Alright, I got it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then go ahead,” Magnolia offered, bracing herself for whatever personal detail the warrior decided to pry from her hands. “Ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, so, my question is: do you think we’ll ever be friends?” Alistair asked, no waver touching his voice. No joke. Just a genuine question. “That’s what I want to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Magnolia blinked at him, slow and calculated as she took in a slow breath. Before she could answer, her own question slipped out as it graced her mind and left her lips without pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would you want to be my friend?” She asked incredulously. It made absolutely no sense to her. All of her friendships growing up were shallow and built on name and recognition alone. Her friends were her brothers. That was it. “That doesn’t make any sense.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it does and I would like the answer to be yes,” Alistair replied, smile uneasy. Boyish. Cute. “But obviously it can be no, I just wanted to ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Magnolia replied honestly, scared in how it fell from her mouth. She didn’t. She really didn’t and the lack of knowledge terrified her. “I really don’t know if we will. Or if I’m capable of being one. Or if—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She broke off, pacing away a step, hands pushing into her hair anxiously. Why would he ask that? She couldn’t answer that. Looking back at him, she shook her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I—“ She started to explain but the words caught in her throat. Pieces of herself. Information. “I don’t have anyone anymore. I don’t know how to be a friend. I can’t answer that for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alistair watched her with some amount of confusion, but softened at her broken truth. Nodding, his smile pushed dimples into his cheeks. Why was he smiling? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s all I wanted to know. Now—was that your question? Why would I want to be?” Alistair asked, taking a single step forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Magnolia answered quietly. “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because, you seem interesting. Because, you’re my fellow warden. Because,” Alistair started to list, blushing a little as he paused, “You’re terrifying and I would like to be on your side of the blade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re terrifying. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Magnolia’s gaze flitted off, holding her gaze towards Morrigan’s tent. Morrigan was also terrifying, but she was strong. She was fascinating. Did Alistair consider her the same? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They bickered too much for that to be true. That meant Magnolia was different. Why?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Magnolia said softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” Alistair said, taking another step. Magnolia wanted to move back but she couldn’t seem to. She was frozen. Confused. “It’s good. You’re very strong, even if you aren’t a criminal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, I suppose,” Magnolia said, swallowing a touch. “I appreciate that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sound like I just gave you a report and not a compliment. Maker, maybe I was harassing that mage,” Alistair sighed, scratching his jaw. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, it’s okay. I’m just,” Magnolia started, then took a breath. Wringing her hands for a moment, her lips pursed. “It’s hard. That’s all.” Looking over to her tent, she took a step toward it. “I’m going to get some sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, ok. Well, thank you for the answer,” Alistair said, taking a step back towards his own tent. “Goodnight, Mags. Rest well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I won’t, but you wouldn’t know that, would you? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good night, Alistair,” Magnolia replied, quietly tucking into her tent, and into herself as well.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Alistair it's okay you get there someday</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. She's a Hero (Alistair/Female Cousland)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Magnolia kills the archdemon.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There was a difficulty in the fight against the archdemon that stacked on top of an already nearly impossible task. Alistair kept an eye out for Magnolia constantly, fear deep in his bones that she would attempt to slay the beast herself. When and if she did, there was still an uncertainty that she would live. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morrigan performed the ritual the night before, but there was no way to know if it took until the final moment. Alistair would rather die than to learn it didn't. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leg crippled from onslaught, the demon roared out in pain and Alistair steeled himself from the sound of it. When he looked over to where Magnolia was just a moment ago, he didn't find her. Eyes scanning quickly, he searched, lungs burning from the fire that surrounded them. Still, he breathed in ash and smoke, choking it only to project his voice best he could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"<em>Magnolia</em>!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no response, so his legs carried him, trying to circle the beast. Then, he saw her, blade in hand as she lept up on the demon's back. Her sword drug against its spine—and before he could reach, speak, breathe—she plunged the sword into its head. Light cast upward in a harsh red pillar, pushing her hair back from her face. Before he shut his eyes to shield from the light, he caught hers for a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A split second where he was convinced it would be the last he saw them with light still in them. Her face was calm, resolve settled for someone readily accepting death. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When it faded, Alistair opened his eyes quickly, blinking as his feet carried him stumbling forward. She sat upright still, knees pressed into the skull and hope blossomed in the warrior's chest. Hope quickly pulled like a rug beneath his feet when she slumped over, hands falling from the blade in favor of hanging limp against her sides. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were words coming from him, he was sure. Some strangled variation of her name as he charged towards her, catching her limp frame before it could hit stone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were tears in his eyes as he pulled her into him, desperation heavy in his mouth. He whimpered, age reverted to something closer to ten and scared as he was told to move when he didn't want to. Ear pressed against her throat, he listened best he could with the sound of fighting drawing quiet with every passing moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Weak, barely held in the air like a butterfly with a clipped wing, he heard her breath. Her heartbeat sat beneath it just as quiet, but still going. Still alive. A sob broke from Alistair's mouth as he curled her closer into his chest. Someone touched his shoulder and his head snapped to look at them, look wild in his eyes like a feral animal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Go get a healer, </span>
  <em>
    <span>now,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" He hissed, tears still streaming down his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pushing up to stand, his legs wobbled a touch before they could solidify and he readjusted her so that her head sat in the crook of his neck. His armor was blood covered and uncomfortable, but it would have to do for now. No one else was going to touch her except him. Him and her brothers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a harsh swallow, he again whimpered, carrying her towards the edge as one of the allied mages came towards him. The healer didn't speak, only started to cast, hands glowing white as they pressed against her in his arms. He took a deeper breath then, but still couldn't manage to tear his gaze away from her to take in the rest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The demon was dead. Morrigan was likely gone. Magnolia was alive. These were facts that he could handle and would handle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She's a hero," The mage murmured, swallowing as he looked up at Alistair, smile genuine. "Maker, she saved us all." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You have no idea how much of a savior she is," Alistair muttered, forehead pressing to hers as he took a breath. Hands curling harder into her, a sad smile formed on his lips. "Maker help me, I get to continue being saved by her for the rest of my life."</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Pain prompted Magnolia to wake. A steady, sharp discomfort that registered when she breathed in that pulled her away from the dark. She opened her eyes from it only to find more of the same if only a little different. There was a gentle light in the room produced by a lantern in the corner, scattering the warm glow against the rest of the room. Eyes readjusting, she breathed in only to wince. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next to her, she felt a shift, if only slight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without moving her head, she looked to her left to find Samuel curled against her as if he were again eight. Blinking, she then looked to her right to find Fergus doing the same in mirror. Once again sandwiched between her brothers like she used to when they were younger and travelling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their parents often told them they could have separate beds, but they often refused. Fergus drifted once he was a teenager, but even into their late teens Magnolia and Samuel would sleep in the same bed. Something about a heart that beat like the other's kept the terrors at bay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rerunning things, Magnolia let the information take hold in her mind. There wouldn't be as many darkspawn dreams now that the archdemon was dead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was dead and she was alive and—jerking slightly, her eyes narrowed trying to find something else in the dark. They did in the form of a shape she could pick out almost blind as Alistair slept on the chaise against the wall. Macaroni was curled at his feet, snoring gently, and she smiled a touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exhaustion pulled on her again, tugging like a small child against her hand and she followed it back into the dark. In the moments before sleep took her, she let the thoughts swim along with tears in her eyes. It was over. They were alive and together... mostly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blinking hard, she took a slow breath, trying not to sob and swallowed it back down. Aching, her chest pulled as sleep did the same over her eyes. Morning would come along with questions, but that was fine. She had everything she needed.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I think, personally, that even if the archdemon takes to the blastocyst Morrigan currently has--the HOF deals with some major energy drain from being ON THE DEMON. But that's just my rationale. Makes for good drama.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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